


sunflower

by frecklebombfic (frecklebomb), savedby



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Audio Format: M4A, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Community: pod_together, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multiple Voices, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 20-30 Minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-11-29 01:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklebomb/pseuds/frecklebombfic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/savedby/pseuds/savedby
Summary: Scientists have answered a burning question central to the charm of sunflowers: Why do young flowers move their blooms to always face the sun over the course of a day?or,PK and Stammer grow up together.[text and podfic, read by frecklebombfic and savedby]





	sunflower

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collab project in the style of pod_together, with my very favorite person in the world. You can listen to the podfic we did together in the beginning, and there's also text underneath, if you'd just prefer to read. - savedby
> 
> this was an incredible treat to be able to work on, and record together last year. i always love to record savedby's writing, and getting to prompt the fic too was SUPER special. thank you for making this with me!! <3<3 - frecklebomb

[](https://66.media.tumblr.com/c10a8603c3d36a0bb4f49aa0192c9722/tumblr_pp5867Qf851vo6bj7o1_1280.jpg)

Cover by frecklebombfic  
Music used is I Like That You Can See It by Girlpool ([youtube link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Y6EyxY1JE4))   
  
---  
  
### [Podfic] sunflower - with music

Duration: 0:21:49 (incl. 0:07:24 outtakes & freetalk)

###### Download:

  * Dropbox: [MP3 & streaming](https://www.dropbox.com/s/8t7md60yu1qux1v/%5BHockey%20RPF%5D%20sunflower_music.mp3?dl=0) | 10.3 mb.
  * Mediafire: [M4A Audiobook](http://www.mediafire.com/file/9ddjdfs0zxw8yvh/%255BHockey_RPF%255D_sunflower_music.m4a/file) | 10.5 mb. 

| 

### [Podfic] sunflower - no music

Duration: 0:20:20 (incl. 0:07:24 outtakes & freetalk)

###### Download:

  * Dropbox: [MP3 & streaming](https://www.dropbox.com/s/izulrhmfbq3jbh2/%5BHockey%20RPF%5D%20sunflower_nomusic.mp3?dl=0) | 9.72 mb.
  * Mediafire: [M4A Audiobook](http://www.mediafire.com/file/f40f8c8f5y28goi/%255BHockey_RPF%255D_sunflower_nomusic.m4a/file) | 9.84 mb. 

  
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* * *

 

 

_ Scientists have answered a burning question central to the charm of sunflowers: Why do young flowers move their blooms to always face the sun over the course of a day? _

 

_ * _

 

“Summer’s the best,” PK said, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, his eyes closed. He had his head tilted towards the sunset as if absorbing the few remaining rays before the sun sunk beyond the horizon. His fingers and the corners of his mouth were blue with the artificial flavoring of the popsicles they’d devoured after practice.

 

“If I could be somewhere where it’s sunny all day, every day, then I’d be happy,” PK added, and Steven found himself strangely fixated on the soft smile on his face, on the blue edging his mouth.

 

Steven was twelve, and more than often put his foot in his mouth. “Should have been born somewhere else then. Or chosen a sport that isn’t played on the ice all the time,” he said.

 

The sun faded from view and PK opened his eyes, looking at him. “I’m exactly where I need to be,” he said, steel in his voice.

 

Steven, who didn’t yet fully understand why opposing players’ parents would single PK out so often, who didn’t understand why PK’s father came to pick him up every day from practice, even though his home was only a few blocks away, just said: “Oh.”

 

He had the weird feeling that he’d done something wrong but didn’t know what it was, or how to fix it. He held his breath, watching PK from the corner of his eye as he looked on across the street, where the streetlights were already lighting up like fireflies in the twilight.

 

Finally, PK smiled. And Steven didn’t know him enough then to be able to tell if it was genuine or not, so he took it at face value.

 

“Guess he’s running late at work,” PK muttered to himself, heaving onto his feet and turning to Steven. “Do you want to play some road hockey while we wait?”

 

Steven, understanding that he was forgiven, breathed out and said, “Sure!”

 

They played and it could have been a couple of minutes but could have also been an hour, until a beat-up red Toyota pulled up on the sidewalk, Karl Subban waving out the open window. 

 

“Hey, kids!” he said, grin as wide as his son’s. “Have you been waiting long?”

 

“Ages,” PK said, elbowing Steven in the ribs and grinning as if inviting him into some shared joke. “I figured that Stammer and I would have to play road hockey all night, waiting for you.”

 

“Knowing you boys, I bet you’d love that,” Karl said, laughing, and he was absolutely right. “Do you need a ride home, Steven?”

 

“If it’s not too much trouble, Mr. Subban,” Steven said, trying for polite, even though PK was already hauling both of their equipment bags into the trunk like it was a given that Steven would be coming with them. It was, in a way. Karl refused to let Steven use the bus on his own, even though Steven’s house was out of their way, way out in the suburbs, and added more than half an hour to their commute.

 

Still, Karl Subban never seemed anything less than sincerely happy to have Steven climbing into the backseat, jostling with PK and fighting with the seatbelts. 

 

Sometimes they’d have to pick up Malcolm or Jordan on the way, but usually, their practice ended earlier, and PK’s mom would pick them up in the mini-van. So there was just PK and Steven and Karl, asking them about their day, about practice, dispensing sage advice and helping with homework during the school year. 

 

It was a good time. PK next to him, laughing as the streetlights painted stripes across his face, and Karl, focused on the road, chirping his son, pulling Steven into their conversation, never letting him feel awkward or out of place.

 

Besides practice, it was the best part of Steven’s day.

 

 

*

 

 

At World Juniors, they holed up in JT’s room and watched bad made-for-TV movies. They ended up watching an awful Christmas romcom because the protagonist’s name was Bob and PK seemed to think that was hysterical.

 

“Oh, Bob, don’t ever leave me!” PK squeaked out in a passable imitation of the actress on the screen, swooning into Steven’s lap, where he stayed, shaking with laughter. Steven rolled his eyes at him, but let him use his lap as a pillow, his thighs shaking with the force of PK’s laughter as JT attempted to repeat a particularly dramatic delivery in his usual monotone.

 

It wasn’t until it was nearly the end that Steven caught JT looking at them. JT wasn’t an expressive person, but somehow that look communicated a lot. 

 

Steven didn’t exactly push PK off his lap, but it was near enough, squeaking, “Bathroom!” and running off, heart racing with no clear idea why.

 

It was later on, with the sounds of PK in the bathroom in the background (PK sang in the shower - Motown classics usually), that Steven worked up the courage to ask JT about it.

 

“What was that look for?”

 

JT stared at him, inscrutable. “You two touch a lot.”

 

It was a statement. Steven swallowed down a denial.

 

“So? I’ve known PK forever. We’re friends.”

 

JT shook his head. “I’ve known him longer and we’re never like that together.”

 

Steven tried for level and ended on childish. “Well, he just likes me better,” he said.

 

“Yes,” JT said, simply. “He does.”

 

_ ‘You are the sunshine of my life,’ _ PK sang in the shower, _ ‘that’s why I’ll always be around.’ _

 

 

*

 

 

Steven came home that evening to another jacket hung up on the hooks in the hallway, another set of shoes beside his own and snores coming through from the living room. So, either there was a particularly lazy burglar on the prowl or—

 

PK was asleep on his couch. 

 

He was tucked in on himself in order to fit on the sofa, the pillows littering the floor like they’d been thrown around by a particularly violent tornado. He’d carried the duvet out of Steven’s bedroom, as well as a pillow, which he totally would yell at him for later. If PK was coherent enough to get provisions before falling asleep, he should have done it in the bedroom, where sleeping was the expected activity.

 

PK was facing the door, so Steven could see the lines of exhaustion of his face, the darkened bruise on his jawline. PK looked like Steven felt, but he couldn’t bring himself to be envious of the fact that PK could rest while Steven had a couple weeks left of the grind.

 

PK let out a especially loud snore, which made Steven laugh quietly. He slung his jacket over the back of the couch and unbuttoned his cuffs. Then he winced and retraced his steps, imaging the scolding he’d get if PK caught him not taking proper care of his suits.

 

Suit hung up, Steven returned to the living room, and after a moment of consideration kneeled on a pillow near PK’s head and reached out to run his knuckles gently over PK’s cheek. PK’s eyes fluttered open, confused and groggy.

 

“Hey,” PK said, voice raspy and smile like the sunrise. Steven smiled back, retraced the path of his hand, enjoying how PK instinctively leaned into the touch.

 

“Hey, cowboy,” Steven said, biting down on the fondness threatening to show. They weren’t that sort of couple, never have been. “I didn’t know you were coming in. You should have said, I would have picked you up.”

 

“You had a game and I have a set of keys,” PK said, sliding closer to the edge of the sofa, reaching out.

 

Steven let himself be drawn down into a kiss, chaste and soft, and lined with the exhaustion they were both feeling. 

 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Steven asked. PK’s gaze skittered away.

 

“Couch is more comfortable,” he tried, which was a lie and meant that the real reason was embarrassing. Steven let it go. He reached out to run his fingers over PK’s scalp, watching his eyes fall shut with a soft hum.

 

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Steven repeated, and he meant that he would have changed the sheets, or gotten more groceries, but PK’s eyes opened and he looked up at him carefully.

 

“If you feel like I’ll be a distraction to you, I can definitely go,” he said. “It’s just that last year, my sister was with me for playoffs and I don’t know what I would have done without her, I—”

 

“Stay,” Steven cut him off and smiled, quick and reassuring.

 

Last year, during PK’s playoff run, he was rehabbing his leg and hadn’t even thought about traveling. But then again, that wouldn’t have helped PK - his focus was on the immediate, and if Steven were there, he had no doubt that he would have been a distraction. They were always different like that - Steven was much less in touch with his emotions.

 

“Okay,” PK said, simply, grinning, “I’ll take care of you so good, babe, you’ll see.”

 

“Yeah?” Steven asked, amused. He sat back on his heels so PK could get up, wincing as the abused muscles in his legs protested.

 

“Oh, yeah,” PK said, rocking on his heels, “I’m thinking breakfast in bed, and that nice lasagne you like for dinner. I’ll even do your laundry, you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

 

“You can do laundry?” Steven asked incredulously and PK rolled his eyes at him.

 

There was a sharp ache in Steven’s chest as he looked up at PK, longing and love and exhaustion all mixing up in a strange heavy ball. PK stood up and pulled him up after, just to hug him, and the weight lightened. 

 

“Will you make your chocolate chip cookies?” Steven muttered against PK’s clean-shaven cheek. “I need my calories.”

 

“I’ll make my world-famous chocolate chip cookies,” PK said, laughing, “you can take them to practice, share them with the boys.”

 

Steven huffed. “Won’t share,” he said, “I’ll eat them all by myself.”

 

“You don’t have to share,” PK said, suddenly serious. Sincere, and embarrassed by it. “If I could be here-”

 

Steven cut him off with a kiss. He didn’t need to hear it. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested, and PK didn’t even complain when he made him pick up and put back all the pillows.

 

_ * _

 

_ And then: Once sunflowers reach maturity, why do they stop tracking the sun and only face east? _

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> we appreciate kudos and comments, short or long, about the podfic or written story, more than we can say ♥️♥️♥️


End file.
